The Dress Mess

There was a time when I thought perhaps this story would go a very different way. However, in retrospect, how could I have ever really thought it would work? Some things are just too good to be true. A lesson I was taught a few times this week in other ways besides the one I am about to explain. I am once again reminded that if things appear to good to be true then they probably are. Mothers and advisors and wise people all over the world use this neat little saying all the time so it must be spot on. And in this case, it certainly was.

I occasionally peruse this online site called ideeli.com. It is basically a free membership based online designer warehouse. You can find lots of pretty terrific deals on nice clothes. You might see a $1000 coat on sale for $300. Or you might find a cute top that was $100 now priced at $25.

Or you might see something that looks like the perfect casual beach wedding dress marked down to $39. And you just might have a credit at the site which would make this dress $14. And you might just freak out and buy it on impulse.

So there I was, finding myself staring at what appeared to be a lovely simple cotton dress on the site. Upon closer inspection, everything still looked great. Well, as great as an online picture of a dress could look. I deliberated only for a moment and went for the dress in white. For $14, who the hell cares if it sucks? I can just use it as something else. A cool beach cover up. A light dress for summer. Whatever works.

To my dismay, the white one had sold out in my hesitation moment. No matter, though. There was one in "cream" that seemed almost identical. I clicked the "buy" icon.

Now I must confess that I have bought one other dress on this site and it was slightly less lovely than I anticipated. Not awful, but just...not what it looked like in the picture. When I put it on, it also fit a little weird. And this is precisely why I don't go around buying stuff off online shopping sites. Shopping and making clothes look right on my body is such an ordeal in real life. I don't know why my brain was insisting that in "online world", everything would just look right on me. But my brain managed to override the truth I knew in my heart. And I bought the dress.

And now I had bought another. Knowing what I already knew. But this time it was possibly my future wedding dress. The thought that this $14 piece of magic just might work thrilled me to the core. I was giddy with excitement. My coworkers I told were floored. They viewed the dress and thought I had a shot at getting lucky and having it be awesome. I secretly did too--more than I realized at the time. I emailed pictures to a few close friends and family. I told the story of the cheapest wedding dress in history and how if it worked I would be elated but that I knew it was a total crap shoot and who cares because it was $14!

Everyone was so supportive happy for me and I was lost in the fun anticipation of seeing if it really was possible to spend the equivalent of 3 beers at my local pub for a wedding dress and still have it be beautiful.

Well, the answer is no. No it is not possible.

The dress arrived today. This after I had already had a stressful and disappointing day. I think my fiance thought it would cheer me up to finally get to see this dress I had been anxiously awaiting all week. So he was sweet and went out of his way to stop by his other work building (where I had it delivered) on the way home and grab it for me.

When I saw the tiny box in his hand, I was confused. This should have been my first clue.
"Why is it so small?" I asked.
"Yeah I thought that was kind of weird too," he said.
The box was the size of a hardback novel sent from Amazon.com. Not exactly the type of packaging you would expect for a dress.
I ran to the guest room to hide from Adam and tear the package open. Inside I found a small lump wrapped in tissue. Unraveling that revealed a thin, dingy yellowish piece of clothing made of the T-shirt material corporations use for their company shirts when they buy them in bulk. You know the kind--cheap cotton that is sort of stiff and mildly irritating to the skin. I shook it out and held it up to me.

It looked like a beach cover up.

Just as I had suspected all along.

Only I hadn't really suspected. Oh sure, I talked a big game about how if it ended up not being what I thought, I could use this thing for something else. Beach cover up was definitely one of the things mentioned. But that tiny little hopeful spark in my heart was secretly saying "It will be great! It will knock your socks off! Get ready!" all the while. I tried so hard not to get too excited about it, and ended up convinced that it would be perfect for me.

I think I do this a lot in life. Or at least it seems like that right now. A few personal things have gone down lately that have left me hugely let down and I have only myself and my uncontrollable closet optimism to blame. I just keep finding myself believing so strongly in something, only to be let down by the reality of the situation.

Perhaps it is years of Catholic School where we were taught to believe in such amazing stories, no questions asked. Just believing--strongly, wholly, and honestly. Waiting for the second coming or something along those lines to happen. That blind, unwaivering faith somehow translated itself to me convincing myself that while something might just be a flop, it could also be the most amazing thing ever. And between the two options, the  amazing always wins out in my heart.

I wonder if that is why I could not handle all the rejection of auditioning day in and day out when I was more active in the Theatre world--my little heart could not take it. Getting passionate and excited about a role and convinced this was the one, only to be super bummed when it did not work out. You are supposed to be strong and tough but somehow I was always a mess after being rejected. I could not help it. As my mother says, I am just "sensitive" and always have been.

Nowadays I bounce back from my disappointments relatively quickly. Maybe a day or two of feeling mopey and then I am back in the saddle. So I am confident that all will be merry again once I let go of the expectations I managed to create this week about how things would turn out.

With this dress fiasco, it might take a few extra sighs of discontent. But that is nothing compared to the discontent my wedding budget will feel.

On the bright side, I bet my sweet cover up dress will be the envy of all the people on that beach Mexico.